


Anything Goes

by Aurea_Aetas



Category: Bright Young Things
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, Ginger has some backwards ideas about being gay but he's learning, M/M, Marathon Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, blatant misuse of cole porter lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 03:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20146966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurea_Aetas/pseuds/Aurea_Aetas
Summary: Ginger wants to try something new.





	Anything Goes

Ginger Littlejohn was curious by nature, if only for the fact that humans were curious beings. That being said, he rarely acted on that inherent curiosity anymore. It had gotten him in more than his fair share of trouble.

That was, until he met Miles.

It seemed like Miles was designed to force him out of his comfort zone: flamboyant, shameless, _ loud. _One could hardly ignore Miles when he was in the room, not that he would allow them to. Even in his supposed exile from England, even as he was supposed to be laying low, he was unashamedly himself.

Ginger both feared and admired Miles in equal respects, though more often than not the admiration won over any other feeling.

That was how Ginger found himself shacking up rather comfortably with Miles in his decadent Parisian suite. It seemed smaller than Miles was perhaps used to, filled to the brim with creature comforts and far away from the troubles of the outside world. Inside, one could practically be oblivious to the war being waged just beyond their walls.

How could they worry, when Miles was putting on a record and pouring drinks for them? The picture of a perfect housewife, he had called himself more than once. Considering Ginger’s limited experience with wives, let alone ones who took care of the home, he couldn’t confirm it either way.

“_ I hate parading my serenading as I'll probably miss a bar. But if this ditty is not so pretty at least it'll tell you how great you are! _ ”

Cole Porter filled the silence of the room as Miles swayed his way over to Ginger on the couch, draping himself over his lap without so much as a second thought. He held out the glass he had filled with the finest brandy for him invitingly, and stole a kiss when he leaned in to take it.

“You really are terribly needy, Miles,” Ginger remarked as he took a drink, though there was no malice behind his words. He smiled as Miles kissed him again, right on the port-wine stain on his bare upper lip.

“You must never regrow your mustache,” Miles demanded between quick pecks to the birthmark, coquettish and playful despite his dire tone, “I’ve grown so attached to this little beauty mark, you see.”

Ginger _ could _ see. He had shaved his mustache in the first place at Miles’ insistence, after all—he had wanted to see his birthmark. He could easily argue that there was nothing “little” or “beautiful” about it, or anything beautiful about himself in general, but Miles always managed to find beauty in the strangest things.

Miles, on the other hand, _ was _ beautiful. Even now, practically swimming in one of Ginger’s dressing gowns with makeup off and hair unstyled fresh from bed, he was still closer to a doe-eyed beauty painted by one of the Renaissance masters than anything else.

All of that beauty was for Ginger alone, and Miles had made that abundantly clear. He liked to have fun at parties, but it was never anything more than that—_ fun _. He was fiercely devoted to the ones that mattered. Ginger must have mattered, because there wasn’t a night over the past few months that he hadn’t spent in Miles’ bed, wasn’t a morning where he woke up and Miles wasn’t still at his side.

They had slept in that morning, lounging in bed until well into the afternoon regaining their strength from the night before. They had replayed some of the night’s activities during that time, putting off the inevitability of leaving bed even further. Even now, mostly dressed and freed from the wild debauchery of the previous night’s congress, Miles played at more—pecking little kisses to the corners of Ginger’s mouth, playing with his hair as he drank his brandy.

He got so little done when Miles was in one of his more _ romantic _ moods _ , _but he found that he didn’t quite mind. It was a refreshing change to feel wanted.

Nina had never been so eager to make love, even on their honeymoon. It seemed nothing more than a chore to her, so naturally they rarely did it. Part of him wondered if she was better suited for Adam, if the two of them were making proper use of the marriage bed Ginger had purchased, or if Nina was just as uninterested by his advances. Considering she was already pregnant by the time they were married, and Ginger was no fool, he doubted that was the case. He had simply not been able to satisfy her, and it was a bigger blow to his ego than he had cared to admit.

Miles, on the other hand, seemingly could not get enough of him. He’d been pulled into enough alleyways and storage closets in their months together that he struggled to keep track of the number. Even beyond their intimate dalliances, though, Miles always wanted to be close to him, and held him as often as possible—even if it was just a hand at his lower back as they walked together down the streets of Paris.

In so little words, Ginger felt absolutely loved, in a way he hadn’t known was possible until Miles. He was the first man that Ginger had ever loved, and he had a feeling he was the first man who had ever loved Miles—genuinely loved him, that is; beyond his reputation or his looks, though both of those things certainly helped.

Setting his now empty glass aside, Ginger began to return Miles’ affections. He wrapped his arms around his thin waist and pulled him into a proper kiss, one that had him melting into his lap almost immediately. With Miles straddling his lap, there was hardly any breathing room between them. They always kissed with as much enthusiasm as the first time, as if they may never get the chance to again.

They kissed, Ginger imagined, the way lovers were _ supposed _to.

His hands followed the path from Miles’ hips downward, along the hem of his dressing gown to where it parted as Miles sat astride him. He opened the garment further to caress his pale thighs, never inching further to where he knew Miles wanted him.

Miles pulled away from his lips with a sigh, trailing kisses down along his exposed throat as sapphire-painted nails began unbuttoning his shirt. “You insatiable_ beast _,” he remarked, as if he wasn’t the one ravaging Ginger, “Haven’t you had your fill?”

Ginger could have replied that he would never get his fill of Miles, but that would only go to his head. Besides, he had a feeling he already knew that. “Are you going to stop me?” He asked instead, stilling the upward movement of his hands with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“I never said that.” Miles replied with a look of his own, sliding Ginger’s shirt off his shoulders once he got it unbuttoned. Taking that as a sign to move forward, Ginger brought their lips together once more, quickly divesting him of the dressing gown that was far too big on him anyway.

Miles sat nude and unashamed above him, luxuriating in the feeling of Ginger’s hands as they freely roamed his body: tweaking his nipples before sliding down to feel the soft plane of his torso. Miles kept himself shaved smooth, no different from a woman except perhaps where it mattered most.

Ginger’s hand next went to Miles’ prick, enclosing it with a loose fist. Miles made the most lovely sounds, high pitched and needy, as he stroked him to full hardness. His body arched towards the touch, his hips canting against his fist in a wordless plea for more.

While the one hand continued to tease his cock, the other slid behind him to take a handful of his ass. Miles was so blessedly soft everywhere, but his ass in particular was a thing of beauty.

Miles pulled back with a hiss as Ginger pressed a teasing finger along his hole, his discomfort immediately palpable in the way his body tensed. Usually his body was so receptive, particularly after a night together. Ginger pulled back with a frown. “Are you alright, Miles?” He asked.

“Just a bit tender, my dear. Not to worry,” Miles replied with a grin that Ginger didn’t at all believe. He was far too used to hearing lies in the bedroom to let this one pass.

Ginger really had been particularly, in Miles’ own words,_ beastly _ the night before, but that had all been a part of their little game. Sometimes Miles liked to be thoroughly taken apart, and he had seen to it.

The thighs Ginger so coveted were covered in bruises, his neck faring even worse. An imprint of Ginger’s teeth where he had latched on somewhere between his second and third release was an angry red on his shoulder. They had taken a hot bath together afterwards, but theirs was an ache that didn’t go away so easily.

“We don’t have to do this,” Ginger assured him, wrapping his arms around Miles’ waist in a gesture that he hoped was comforting. He was more than content to go no further, and wanted to make that clear. Miles hummed, his own arms sliding around Ginger’s neck to complete the embrace.

“Oh, but you see, I want to terribly,” Miles replied with a pout that really shouldn’t have been as adorable coming from a grown man as it was. “Just this blasted body betraying me.” His erection had flagged slightly at the hint of pain, but was still very much interested as it pressed against Ginger’s bare stomach, the tip leaving a wet spot on his skin. That much he couldn’t fake.

Ginger figured he could always lend a quite literal hand to the poor chap, but there had been an idea niggling at the back of his mind for weeks. Miles seemed to always have such a good time _ receiving_, as it were. Ginger had never tried it himself, but perhaps now would be the time to change that.

Leave it to Miles to break down that one last, sacred inhibition.

“What if…Rather, that is to say….” Ginger hesitated, trying to form the words in his mind before he said them outright. Miles patiently awaited his request, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. Perhaps it was best to be blunt, particularly where Miles was concerned. “What if you fucked me instead?” He asked, looking anywhere but at Miles.

Miles’ face immediately lit up, as if he’d just won the lottery. “Ginger!” He exclaimed with a laugh. He slapped the man’s chest playfully, faux scandalized. Ginger could feel his face heat up in response, and part of him wondered if it was too late to catch that boat to America after all. “We don’t _ have _ to,” He found himself muttering. It was a foolish request, after all. Miles would never want to—

In an instant, Miles’ tone changed. He held Ginger’s head to his bosom, flat as it was anyway, and apologized. “Oh my darling, my dearest, I don’t mean to laugh,” Miles assured him as he stroked his hair much like a mother soothing her child. Ginger relaxed against him, allowing the doting for the moment. “It’s only that I had been wondering when your resolve would finally crack.”

Ginger pulled himself out of the embrace, giving Miles a look of confusion. “My resolve?”

“Yes, your resolve. I’ve had my fair share of your type, Ginger darling—oh, don’t give me that look, I don’t mean that in a cruel way,” Miles rolled his eyes, ignoring the affronted look on Ginger’s face as he resumed his lecture, “Men who only limit themselves to the one role, convinced they couldn’t possibly enjoy it the other way around.”

To Ginger, it had all seemed perfectly clear. There were the ones who enjoyed being buggered, and the ones who did the buggering. The men, and—well, not the women, but the_ effeminate. _Their own “roles” had made sense to him, until only moments ago.

Perhaps it was foolish of him, as inexperienced in the matters of sodomy as he was, but part of him still wanted to try. “So...will you?” He asked, returning to his prior line of questioning. This time, he dared to look Miles in the eye, and saw nothing but lust in return.

“It’s a good thing I’m feeling positively butch today,” Miles teased, and so it was decided.

Miles stood, taking Ginger by the hand as he led him across the room towards their bed. The sheets were still rumpled at the foot of the mattress, tossed off without a care when they finally decided to face the day barely an hour before. No matter—they didn’t want to mess up the duvet again, not when they’d just replaced it with a clean one.

Miles kissed him once they were at their bedside, a slow and passionate affair that left Ginger feeling weak at the knees. So, he simply sat himself down on the mattress, never pulling away from his lover’s lips.

Miles followed easily, straddling him as he blindly undid his trousers. It was a position they had been in countless times before, the familiarity easing Ginger’s mind. The kiss had to be broken for Miles to remove his trousers properly, leaving him fully exposed beneath him. They were both nude, yet his somehow felt deeper than just his skin.

Miles smiled down at him, his eyes trailing along his body for the briefest of moments before he pushed himself upwards, nearly straddling Ginger’s chest as he reached to the nightstand for the container of vaseline he always kept there. Given the opportunity to as he waited, Ginger slid down that miniscule amount he needed to take Miles’ cock into his mouth.

Miles’ hands immediately went to Ginger’s scalp, the vaseline completely forgotten as his cock was enveloped by the wet heat of his mouth. Slender fingers tangled into Ginger’s locks-that-used-to-be-much-more-red. Though he was nowhere near as practiced as Miles himself, he still made a good show of it as he bobbed his head and stroked what he couldn’t quite reach.

Miles guided his head, starting a steady rhythm he knew Ginger could keep up with. And oh, he did so well. He said as much, and Ginger hummed a wordless response that sent vibrations all along the length of him.

Miles allowed the attention for a moment longer before he withdrew himself from Ginger’s mouth, wiping away the trail of drool down his chin with his thumb before stroking his cheek. “You’re getting quite good at that, you know. Soon all the suitors who come knocking at my door will be asking for you instead.”

The praise set Ginger’s body alight with warmth, and he smiled.

“There’s a pet,” Miles crooned, patting his cheek affectionately before he pulled away to actually grab the well-used vial of vaseline—no distractions this time.

“Turn over for me, darling,” He requested as he unscrewed the cover of the vial, and Ginger could feel his stomach tighten as the reality of the situation set in. He wasn’t afraid, per se—though many people throughout his life had called him a coward to his face—he was simply _ hesitant. _Unsure of what to expect. Miles certainly enjoyed it, but he was not Miles, not even close.

Regardless, Ginger found himself rolling over onto his stomach, arms crossing beneath himself to pillow his head.

“Goodness. It seems you weren’t the only beast last night,” Miles remarked as he ran a soothing hand down the planes of Ginger’s back. Pale pink nail marks littered the expanse of flesh, from his shoulders down to his ass. He had noticed them in the mirror when getting dressed earlier, but it was by no means the first time Miles had marked him up in such a way. He did so like to grab.

“That’s what I get for paying for your manicures,” Ginger replied, his wit just as quick even as his anxiety increased—but that was always the case, wasn’t it? He got clever to get out of trouble, even though he knew he was in no real danger.

Miles chuckled, pressing a kiss to the back of Ginger’s neck. “You do take care of me so,” He stated, his fondness obvious in his voice. Ginger knew Miles would take care of him just as well.

Miles continued to kiss along Ginger’s neck and shoulders, and it was then that he felt the blunt press of a finger against him. He tensed initially, but knew better than to keep himself tight. It was always a dreadful time for the both of them, trying to get into Miles when he was feeling particularly tense.

With a stronger push, the first finger was inside of Ginger. He made a rather undignified noise, Miles soothing him with a low and gentle voice. It wasn’t that it hurt, like he had imagined it would. It was simply...foreign, bordering on uncomfortable.

Ginger didn’t know how long they were sat like that, the finger unmoving in his ass. Long enough that the feeling of discomfort began to fade, and he found himself squirming against Miles.

Miles chuckled, leaning up to press a proper kiss to Ginger’s cheek before he began moving the finger in slow, shallow thrusts. The odd feeling returned, but Ginger found it was nowhere near as unwelcome as it had initially been. Still not _ pleasurable, _but not the worst sensation he had endured.

A second finger rapidly followed the first, and it was then that Miles began to search. Ginger was well acquainted with the prostate, if only from the reactions he got from Miles when he struck his. That had been part of his curiosity, after all. Miles had described the sensation as nothing else on this earth.

In Miles’ defense, it truly was like nothing Ginger had ever experienced, but it was not the explosive pleasure that he expected—though it did make him gasp. It was a pressure that built deep in his stomach, an electricity that traveled along his spine. With each pass of Miles’ fingers over the nerves, his pleasure grew.

Ginger’s cock was hard beneath him, pressed tight between his stomach and the mattress. It rubbed against the expensive sheets as he rocked with Miles’ movements, creating a delicious friction. “You look positively debauched like this, darling,” Miles praised, curling his fingers against Ginger’s prostate in a way that had him crying out, pushing back against him. “Who knew that two fingers was all it took?”

Ginger would have said something smart back, were his brain not wholly fried from the dual sensations of pleasure at his front and back. He would have been right clever, but none of that mattered then.

“Please, Miles,” Ginger found himself begging, but for what he wasn’t sure. Just _ more _. His hands clenched into fists as he grabbed the bedsheets, spreading his knees to further lift his hips.

Miles couldn’t possibly say no to that.

Ginger shivered at the sudden loss of Miles’ fingers, but hardly had to wait another moment before his blunt cockhead was pressed against him instead. Miles was average by all means. He had quite a pretty cock, that Ginger liked to lavish attention upon, but in that moment it felt positively monstrous.

For a brief moment he considered backing out, but then that nagging voice returned to the back of his head, the voice that called him a coward. A surge of defiant confidence filled him, and he looked over his shoulder at the beauty currently waiting for his go-ahead.

“Come on, Miles,” He moaned, pushing himself back towards the cock pressed against him, properly on his hands and knees now. “Give me a proper rogering.”

Miles let out a snort of a laugh at that, not even trying to hide his amusement. It wasn’t the demure chuckle that most people got from him. This was his genuine laugh, caught off guard by Ginger’s admittedly slapdash attempt at dirty talk.

“Darling, that was by far the least arousing thing I’ve ever heard,” came Miles’ critique when he managed to calm his giggles, “But we’ll work on that later. I do believe we’ve got a _ proper rogering _ to get to.” Ginger found himself chuckling a little at that as well, the sound abruptly turning into a moan as Miles pressed into him.

Miles’ prick was considerably larger than his dainty, piano-player’s fingers, pushing into him slower than even the first finger. He felt positively split open, yet he trusted Miles to put him back together again. The weight of his hand gripping his waist was grounding, a distraction from the blunt stretch.

Inch by inch, Miles pushed himself forward until he was sheathed fully inside of Ginger, and he let out a contented sigh. It had been so long since he last played the role of the dominant, particularly with a virgin such as Ginger, and Ginger—bless him—was letting him in so nicely, squeezing him so tightly.

Miles gave Ginger a moment before pulling back, nearly withdrawing fully before pushing back into him with more force than before. Ginger let out a sound more akin to a strangled gasp, his back arching in a way that Miles found incredibly beautiful, and he told him as such as he ran a soothing hand down his flank.

The hand then traveled beneath him, wrapping around his half-hard cock to give it a firm stroke as he began fucking into him properly. At first, his pleasure was centered solely around the tight circle of Miles’ fist on his prick. The longer Miles used him, though, the more bliss Ginger found himself in. It had stung, at first, but soon the sensation faded to barely anything—a dull ache at the back of his mind that he found only enhanced his pleasure.

Behind him, he could hear the pitchy whines of Miles taking his pleasure, punctuating each deep thrust. They weren’t so unlike the sounds he made when Ginger was inside of him, and his cock twitched at the familiar eroticism.

Ginger had been rather enjoying himself, getting caught up in the blinding new sensation of Miles taking him from behind, when he found himself abruptly being pushed over, manhandled. Miles was not a strong man, by any means, but when he wanted something, he took it.

“I want to see you,” Miles explained, his voice barely above a hiss as he pushed Ginger’s legs practically up to his shoulders. He did not hesitate upon entering him that time, resuming the previously brutal pace. Ginger could do little else from that position except hold onto his own thighs and _ take it _ . From that new position, it was hard for Miles’ cock to _ miss _ Ginger’s prostate, nailing it almost head-on with each powerful thrust.

The bed creaked with the frantic movements of their coupling, but it could hardly be heard over their exclamations of passion. It was less animalistic, less frantic than the night before, but in a way it was more intense and explosive. It was something utterly new for the both of them.

With each deep thrust, Ginger found himself growing closer to his release. His cock had remained untouched since Miles pushed him onto his back. He _ couldn’t _ touch himself, not if he was going to stay bent as he was, but that didn’t seem to matter in the slightest. Before he even realized it, he was hurtling off the edge, coming with a shout. His cock twitched between them, spilling on his stomach in great spurts. He dug his nails into his thighs as they shook, his body curling in on itself.

Miles let out a quivering moan as Ginger tightened impossibly more around him, his hips stuttering and threatening to lose their rhythm. He didn’t last much longer after that, spilling into Ginger over the course of several staccato thrusts.

Miles fell on top of Ginger with a sigh, still nestled deep inside of him as his cock softened. For once, he was at a loss for words. Ginger had taken them all from him.

Ginger eventually uncurled himself, his legs stretching back out against the mattress with an uncomfortable pop. He wrapped his arms around Miles in a loose embrace, and turned to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Was that quite alright?” He asked, more than a little breathless.

“That was sublime, my dear,” Miles assured him, finally pulling back enough to withdraw from his body. Ginger made a face at the feeling of Miles’ release seeping out of him, but found that it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He felt spent, used, utterly boneless. He hadn’t felt so free in some time.

“Fancy another go?” He asked, finally cracking an eye open to take a look at Miles, who in turn gave him a look of disbelief. An absolute beast, indeed.

“Let me turn the record and we’ll see,” Miles replied, pressing a smacking kiss to Ginger’s lips before crawling out of bed to tend to the gramophone. It had undoubtedly been playing static since their coupling began, but he had hardly noticed.

Ginger lit his pipe as music filled the small suite once more, a satisfied grin on his face. As Miles curled back in bed with him, like a cat in the midday sun, he supposed he could get used to this new _ flexibility. _

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me at my tumblr, wildeoscars.


End file.
